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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471429">Night Shift</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice'>queenhomeslice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Random Promptis One-Shots [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Promptis - Freeform, nightclubs, prompto's not an escort per se but this club does offer sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:35:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,326</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompto's at work, and Noct is alone and bored. He stumbles across a swanky club in downtown Insomnia, and takes a chance.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Random Promptis One-Shots [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. </p><p>____<br/>*Noct and Prom are 21 in this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noctis frowns as he lingers outside of the video game shop, hoodie over his head and oversized aviators on his face to hide him from the press. He’s staring at his phone; though, he knows he shouldn’t be mad. He’d texted Prompto <em>after </em>he got to the downtown strip, always just assuming that his best friend would fall in line with him and roam about for hours. Except, Noctis kind of forgets that Prompto’s a commoner sometimes, with a new apartment and a <em>job</em>. Ugh. Noct had the sushi shop gig in high school part time; and while it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t his favorite thing, either. He can’t imagine doing that for the rest of his life—but he knows he’d be screwed if he wasn’t royalty. Noctis doesn’t wanna work <em>period</em>, either 9 to 5 <em>or </em>ruling a country, but he guesses that the latter is better, because at least he’s his own boss. Mostly.  </p><p>He reads the text from Prompto again--<em>Hey buddy, I’m sorry! Picked up a random overnight shift tonight, so I </em><em>gotta </em><em>take a nap to make sure I’m up for it later. &gt;_&lt; Ttyl, luv </em><em>ya </em><em>bro, we’ll hang tmrw I pinky swear!  </em> Noctis feels his tender heart do a flip every time Prompto ends a casual text with “luv ya!” He knows that Prompto loves him, as a friend—it's been six years now that they’ve known each other. Noctis loves Ignis and Gladio, sure—but what he feels for Prompto is different. But Prompto’s never given him any indication that he feels the same way, so... <em>heartbreak and pining, hello, my name is </em><em>Noct </em>. </p><p>Noctis spends his days endlessly being shoved at some random noblewomen at court, or introduced to foreign princesses and heads of state, when he wishes someone would introduce him to a cute boy instead. At the galas, he stiffly dances with starry-eyed shallow girls while eyeing the handsome Glaives lining the perimeter of the ballroom. It’s not that Noctis doesn’t <em>like </em>girls, it’s just that he finds himself wishing to kiss a boy, instead. And mostly...mostly he just wishes he could kiss Prompto.  </p><p>He grunts again at the warm feeling he gets just by reading Prompto’s message and kicks off the side of the building, wandering wherever he pleases since he knows he’ll be alone. He buys a ton of stuff from the gaming store, then heads to the comic shop to check out the new trade releases. He buys Prompto a ton of shit he wouldn’t get away with if the blond were here—it's one way that Noctis hopes to get his affections across. Prompto hates being treated like a charity case, but if Noctis anonymously donates to his ko-fi account that’s linked to his Instagram photography page, well, Prom will never know, right? Prompto has a hard time reaching out when he’s in need, but Noctis would rather die than see his best friend be destitute. He gets away with big gifts on birthdays—Prompto's sexy new camera was courtesy of Noctis last year, on his 21st—but daily, Noctis has to sneak in little tokens of friendship so Prompto won’t get mad.  </p><p>Perks of being the prince of Lucis—stores will box up your purchases and mail them to your apartment so you don’t have to carry stuff. Noctis passes a designer boutique and sees the new season collection in the window—<em>Punk Chic— </em> and knows immediately that Prom’s ass was <em>made </em>for the pre-patched coeurl-print pants in the window. He ducks into the shop and buys the whole collection for Prompto, plus some things he thinks Ignis and Gladio would like. What’s royalty for if you can’t spoil your friends?  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Night blankets Insomnia before Noctis realizes it. He’s managed to avoid Ignis and Gladio most of the day, but he’s tired, and he debates on going back home to unpackage his shopping spree. He spent millions of yen today, but who cares? Besides, he was bored, and it temporarily takes his mind off of the way Prompto’s face lights up when he smiles. Noctis wanders the streets as they grow empty, as people go home from their cushy offices and meager retail shifts; only a handful of restaurants and coffee shops are left open at nine, ten o’clock at night.  </p><p>The prince eventually finds himself in... a seedier part of Insomnia that he always knew existed, just never experienced personally. There are hookah bars lining the back alleys, recreational dispensaries, dive bars and dance clubs that are only open when the sun is down. There are lines of people outside, girls dressed scantily clad, men dressed in flashy suits or expensive jeans, Bentleys and Bugattis lining the sidewalks where the more upscale hangouts are. Noctis eyes them curiously—he knows Ignis would have his hide for even going into a club or a smoking spot, and Gladio would be mad that he wasn’t invited. It’s not like he doesn’t know what sex is—he'd hired a sex worker when he turned 18 just so he wasn’t hapless, but he’d had to close his eyes and think of Prompto while fucking the poor girl; so he’s not a virgin, but if he can’t do the do with Prom, Noctis thinks that he really doesn’t want to do it again at all. He stops in front of one club and looks at the dim neon sign—<em> Chez Behemoth</em>. There are no people lined up outside, waiting to get in, like they are at the other hotspots—any place devoid of crowds is a check on Noct’s radar, so he slips his hands from his pockets and opens the door without even knowing what he’s walking into.  </p><p> </p><p>The club is...elegant, to say the least. Plush red and black velvets line the walls; heavy gilded curtains surround private booths, some open and some closed; the house music is low but still loud enough to make your heart pump in time to its beats; the shiny black marble reflects the diamond chandeliers overhead. Noctis smirks. He can at least have a drink in a private booth with closed curtains and go home, his retainers none the wiser. His hoodie and his sunglasses are still hiding his face—he'll reveal himself if he must, but he hopes they’ll respect his wish for anonymity. He walks up to the hostess stand and fidgets, waiting for her to notice him.  </p><p>“Oh--welcome, sir, to Chez Behemoth.” She gives him a once-over. “How may we serve you?” </p><p>“Uh,” says Noctis, trying to change the pitch of his voice on the fly. “Sorry, I’ve never been here--”  </p><p>“Of course,” she says. “May I see your license and a credit card to open a tab?” </p><p>Noctis sighs and pulls out his wallet, handing over his ID and his black card. The woman stares at both, then shakily hands the license back over. Noctis speaks before she can say anything else. “I don’t want <em>anyone </em>to know I’m here, got it? Tell the press, or anyone at the Citadel, and you’re out of business.” He winces at his forcefulness, but it’s necessary.  </p><p>The hostess nods and swipes his card in their machine. “I’ve created an account for you, uh--” </p><p>“Just Noct.” </p><p>“Noct,” she says quietly, handing him back the card. “Um. Chez Behemoth strives to provide the finest entertainment for Insomnians with exquisite taste. Such as yourself. We have an extensive drink menu with selections from not only Lucis, but the entirety of Eos. Our Michelin-starred chefs pride themselves on providing high-quality meals from any ethnic or local cuisine that you prefer. And of course, there are the Behemoths themselves.” </p><p>Noctis fumbles his license and credit card back into his wallet and slides his sunglasses up, staring the hostess in the eyes. “The...Behemoths?” </p><p>She inhales sharply at seeing his face, but takes a deep breath and continues. “Yes. Our Behemoths are company that is unmatched at any other club in Insomnia. Whether you wish to hear singing, see dancing, or something more intimate, our Behemoths can provide. Client privacy is our top priority, and our Behemoths go through routine background checks and health screenings to ensure they meet the standards of our guests. Behemoths are sworn to secrecy as long as they are employed here.” </p><p>Noctis nods. <em>Something more intimate </em>is a tempting notion—he could just close his eyes again and pretend it’s Prompto. He gets tired of his hand and incognito porn on his browser. He’s pretty wound up today—Noct figures that as long as he’s thinking about it, he might as well do it. If he doesn’t like it, he can leave, right? “Sure, uh. Sounds good. I’ll take a table, or whatever. And, uh. A...a Behemoth.” </p><p>“Certainly,” the hostess nods, punching her screen. “Will you require a drink and food menu?” </p><p>“Yeah, I’m pretty starved.” Noctis dares to slide the hoodie off and scratch the back of his head. “Uh...” Fuck, why is he so awkward?  </p><p>“Of course, a table and a Behemoth will be prepared for you right away.” says the hostess, blushing the longer she looks at the prince. “Do you have a preferred gender?” </p><p>The question knocks Noctis breathless. He’s being given a choice? He didn’t know that could even happen. “Ah,” he stammers, looking down. “A, uh. A male...Behemoth...I guess, if you‘ve got one.” </p><p>“Right away.” She punches more electronic buttons. “Preferred hair or eye color, body type?”  </p><p>Noctis is reeling, his stomach doing all sorts of weird flips. “I, uh. Blond hair...blue eyes...maybe the same body type as me?” If they’ve got anyone who looks remotely close to Prompto, he thinks he’ll fall on the floor. It would do wonders for his stretched imagination, not to mention his libido.  </p><p>The hostess smiles. “I think we have just the person who will please you, Noct.” Seconds later, a thin woman in a black strapless leotard, fishnets, and heels appears at the hostess stand. Noctis wonders what Prompto would look like in a getup like that. The prince isn’t sure he could handle it, anyway, so best not to dwell on it.  </p><p>“This way, please, Noct,” says the girl.  </p><p>“Hey--thanks,” Noctis says genuinely, turning to the hostess before he walks away.  </p><p>“Your wish is our command here at Chez Behemoth,” says the hostess with a smirk.  </p><p> </p><p>Noctis wonders if he’s missing some inside joke but shrugs it off as he follows the server to one of the velvet-curtained booths. He flops on the curved, cushy seat, eyes focused on the cluster of candles in the middle of the table. A glass of water is already waiting for him. </p><p>“I’ll be back momentarily with your drink and dinner menus,” says the server. “Your Behemoth will be here shortly. Please relax and let us take care of you.” She draws the curtain shut.  </p><p>Noctis lets out a long breath and scrambles out of his hoodie, tossing it and his sunglasses aside. He's just left in his black skull-print t-shirt and dark jeans and sneakers. He digs his phone out and puts it on airplane mode, throwing it face-down on top of his hoodie. He closes his eyes and exhales slowly.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Holy shit,” says a voice, and for a moment, Noct thinks he’s dreaming. He must have dozed off, weary from his long day of just being out and about. He scrubs at his eyes and blinks at the source of the sound.  </p><p>He doesn’t realize what he’s seeing at first, because there’s no way this can be real, right? Prompto is standing there, in the exact same getup as the server from earlier, clutching white laminated menus in his hand. He looks like he’s wearing makeup—the eyeliner and mascara highlight his wide violet-blue stare. His freckled cheeks are flushed red, dappled with near holographic highlighter that glistens from the chandelier overhead. His pale freckled shoulders and strong arms are on display, white-buttoned cuffs on each of his wrists. His hair is spiked up, bangs long at the sides and the top poofed up like a chocobo’s rear-end.  </p><p>The best friends stare at each other. Noctis can’t move. He’s mesmerized, eyes roaming once, two, three times over Prompto’s lean body in the tight black leotard and fishnet stockings. He’s so turned on he can’t think straight.  </p><p> </p><p>He opens his mouth to speak but Prompto beats him to it, slipping all the way inside of the curtain and gently placing the menus on the table.  </p><p>“Hey, uh—look don’t tell anyone about this okay?” he blushes hard and turns away, embarrassed as shit. <em>Fuck</em>. Noctis was never supposed to find out about where he worked. He’d always been vague, figuring that if he hinted enough at something like a restaurant or bar, that would be the end of it. But now his best friend, his prince, his <em>crush</em>, is sitting in the plush, opulent booth. Looking at him. It’s more than Prompto can take. He bites his lip and starts to turn.  </p><p>“No--Prom—wait!” Noctis says, voice cracking and damn, is that really him? He’s so wrecked already, already so whipped by his affection for Prompto.  </p><p>Prompto turns, eyes wide and slightly wet. “Y-yeah?” </p><p>“Stay--please—stay with me,” Noctis manages, sliding more into the middle of the booth.  </p><p>Prompto can’t deny Noctis anything ever, so he sits at the edge of the booth, still looking down. “You must think I’m pretty scummy right now, looking like this.” </p><p>Noctis shakes his head, words stuck in his throat. “No, I—just surprised—you work here?” </p><p>It’s a good thing that Prompto speaks flustered prince. He chuckles. “The pay here is incredible, bro. I’m really lucky. Rent isn’t a problem anymore. And the managers are great, and, uh. Most clients tip well.” His voice drops low on the last sentence.  </p><p>Noct’s nerves are on fire as he stares at Prompto’s exposed back and shoulders. The creamy skin is tempting him and Noct has never wanted to wreck something so beautiful so much before. He shakes with self-restraint.  </p><p>“Well, I mean—I guess we can hang out now?” Prompto laughs, whirling to look at Noct. “I slept pretty well so I’m wide awake.”  </p><p>Noctis is wide awake too. Every. Single. Body part. He just nods.  </p><p>“The food here is top-notch—I get leftovers to eat on my lunch breaks. So order whatever you feel like.”  </p><p>Hunger and arousal battle it out in Noct’s brain—the hunger ekes out a slim victory with a traitorous stomach gurgle. “Yeah, I—I am hungry,” he says, gaze darting to the menus. If he focuses on food, he won’t say something stupid, like, <em>I love you </em>or <em>You’re really fucking hot.  </em> </p><p>Prompto laughs and claps him on the shoulder, like he’s not splayed out like a feast fit for his prince already. “Tell me what you want and I’ll put it in. Do you want drinks? I can only have a couple myself, but the scotch from Galahd is really smooth. Definitely recommend.”  </p><p>Noctis scans the menu. “The, uh. The chipotle chicken pasta sounds good,” he murmurs. “And um, the hummus and chips as an appetizer? And, ah. A strawberry scotch cocktail. With the Galahd stuff.” He manages to look at Prompto again.  </p><p>His friend is just beaming at him, so happy to be in his presence. Noctis wants to cry. What a cruel twist of fate. The gods are laughing at him, dangling Prompto in front of him like a fancy fishing lure.  </p><p>“Sure thing bro!” Prompto quips. “Uh, okay this is weird but I have to ask so just bear with me,” he laughs. “Will you be buying for me as well? You don’t have to, but clients are always welcome to treat their Behemoths.”  </p><p>Noctis wants to treat Prompto to his cock, but he shoves that thought way down deep in his belly. He nods. “Yeah Prom, if you’re hungry, uh.” He waves his hand. “Get whatever you want. What’s your favorite?” </p><p>“Their sushi here is to die for, literally,” says Prompto dreamily. “It’s, uh, kind of a lot though. You sure you don’t mind?” </p><p>“Dude,” says Noctis. “It’s you, c’mon. You’re my best friend.” </p><p>“You’re the best,” Prompto sighs. He gets up, menus in hand, and Noctis can only watch the wiggle of his ass as Prompto gracefully leaves the booth, the vision of the heels on his feet burned into Noct’s brain.  </p><p> </p><p>The meal arrives quickly, and Noctis shovels the food in his mouth so that he’ll have an excuse not to talk for a while. Then he and Prompto slowly sip their drinks—Prom got himself a vodka with Sprite—and Noctis starts to relax, telling Prompto about his shopping spree this afternoon. He loses track of time. He closes his eyes and simply enjoys being with Prompto, trying to forget how he’s dressed. Or the makeup he’s wearing.  </p><p>Prompto laughs, loose and flushed from the alcohol. “The clothes sound so choice, Noct. I can’t wait to try them on. But you know you don’t hafta do that shit for me, right?” He shrugs, swirling his drink. “I’m a big boy. Like I said, this job...I make bank. And my ko-fi account for my photography is pretty popular.” He smiles softly. “I’m not nobility but I’m not doing bad for myself these days.”  </p><p>Noctis is also loose and flushed from the drinks and the rich food. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Prompto was right—this scotch <em>is </em>good. “I donate to your ko-fi a lot,” he confesses, daring to look Prompto in the eyes. “You won’t let me help outright, so I do it anonymously.” </p><p>Prompto stares. “Dude,” he says softly. “You don’t have to—feel obligated just ‘cause I’m--” </p><p>“Cause I care about you a lot,” Noctis continues softly. “I want to—to help you, to—to spoil you. To make you feel...worthy.” </p><p>Prompto gulps hard and knocks back more of his drink. He hopes he’s not reading too much into this. Noctis is just a really good friend, right? His best friend, the best he’s ever had. Noctis is royalty, and boy does Prompto think about that every damn day of his life. Noct operates in a whole different world than what Prompto grew up in—and even though he’s mildly comfortable now, he’ll never be in that world. He’ll never be the client—he'll always be a Behemoth. But still, Prompto’s grateful for Noctis, and for his other friends, too. He doesn’t want to fuck this up. But damn, he wishes he could show Noctis the skills he’s picked up over the past few months.  </p><p>Prompto looks at Noctis out of the corner of his eye. He’s flushed, face and neck covered in a faint sheen of sweat from the drinks and the hot overhead lights. His black hair looks so soft—Prompto gives into guilty pleasure when they have movie nights on Friday and Noctis passes out on his lap fifteen minutes in, stroking the other man like a cat. He racks his gaze over Noct’s lean body—the fitted black shirt, the tight jeans that hug his slender hips and thighs—Prompto dreams about crawling into Noct’s lap and kissing him breathless. He’s sure that he could come untouched just from Noctis moaning his name. He gulps and looks away, feeling himself start to stir—the leotards are specifically built for not hiding embarrassing erections.  </p><p>“Hey, Noct?” </p><p>“Hmmm?” Noctis feels loose and limber, much calmer than he had at the beginning of the night. He's still trying to avoid looking at Prompto, though, gaze burning a hole in the heavy drapes around the private booth.  </p><p>“Why did you come here?” </p><p>“Huh?” Noctis turns, breaking his thousand-yard stare, getting lost in Prompto’s gorgeous eyes.  </p><p>“I mean—did you know what this place was, or?” </p><p>Noctis shakes his head. “No, I—I'd never heard of it. I was curious, I guess—seemed different from all the other clubs. Not a big crowd outside, y’know.”  </p><p>“Yeah, okay. Just...just checking.” He swallows hard, finally finishing his first drink. He feels like he needs another. “Hey, uh—I'll go get a tray and clean the table. You want another drink, or...?” </p><p>Noctis shakes his head. “Don’t bother, uh. Cleaning. It’s fine.” </p><p>“Dude, it’s kinda my job.” </p><p>Noctis pouts and Prompto can’t stop staring at his lips. “C’mon man. Let me clean up. We can have dessert and I’ll get us some refills, okay?” Prompto rises and slides out of the booth.  </p><p> </p><p>Now Noctis is just really sleepy, two drinks in and full of pasta <em>and </em>cake. But he has to admit, the Death By Chocolate was pretty delicious. He leans his head back, feeling his body fall pliant and half-numb, heart matching the low and steady beat of the house music.  </p><p>“So they told you what Behemoths do, right?” </p><p>Noctis cracks an eyelid and Prompto is staring straight through to him, down to his bones, his soul. Noct licks his lips. “Hostess did mention something about...singing? Maybe dancing?” He lets his head flop to the side.  </p><p>Prompto snickers. “You want me to dance and sing for you?” </p><p>Noctis lifts an eyebrow. “...Can you?” </p><p>“What, sing? Dude I sing all the time. I’m not <em>that </em>bad. Which emo cover would you like me to pull out of my vast repertoire?” He giggles.  </p><p>Noctis feels drunk on the sound of Prompto’s laughter. He grins cheekily. “No. Dance. What kind of dances do they make you do?” </p><p>Prompto shrugs, blushing. “Whatever you want, I guess.”  </p><p>Noctis looks at him, and then it hits him that the long pole in the middle of the large round table isn’t a structural support beam. His throat feels dry as he looks at it.  </p><p>Prompto follows his line of vision and shudders. “You want me to...up there?” </p><p>Noctis inhales sharply. “Pretend I’m someone else. Dance for me, Prom.” </p><p>Prompto knocks back half of his second vodka cocktail in one go and clears the dishes and candles, setting them on the tray and stand in the corner of the booth. He sets his own glass on the floor, only leaving Noct’s drink on the table. He climbs gracefully on top of the table and closes his eyes, breathing deep. <em>Pretend it’s someone else.  </em> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Noctis had realized that Prompto could pole dance, his late-night fantasies would’ve been a lot more vivid. He watches Prompto in rapture, the blond transforming into someone else before his eyes. Prompto’s eyelashes flutter closed and he begins to move slowly, spinning himself around the pole, backing his ass up against it and sliding down, squatting and spreading his legs wide, giving Noctis an uncensored view of his supple thighs beneath the fishnet stockings. Noctis doesn’t even try to will back his arousal, feeling his cock fill out as much as it’s able inside of his jeans.  </p><p>Prompto looks up at the blinding diamond chandelier, reaches his hands back to clasp the pole, and slowly gyrates his hips, cheeks turning red as he feels himself grow hard inside the thin leather one-piece. He drops one hand, running it down his neck, letting his fingers linger over his skin; he trails down his chest, dancing along the top of the leotard, peeling it down to expose his nipple. He shivers as he hears Noct’s breath hitch. He lets the leotard snap back up to cover him, and he continues trailing his fingers down his torso, down to his groin, cupping the bulge there. He rises and hooks his legs around the pole, spinning with ease, relishing the burn of his muscles as he switches and grips the metal, holding himself out straight, and then bends up, hooking his legs around the pole and twirling around upside down, rolling his entire body to the sway of the music.  </p><p>Noctis has never been so hard, not even when Prompto took off his shirt in gym senior year to participate in the tug-of-war. He watches Prompto’s amazing display of muscle control as he winds himself around the pole. Noctis feels stupid not having wads of cash to throw at his best friend. When the hell did he learn all of this? Noctis can’t think. His dick is about to fall off. He sees the bulge in Prompto’s one-piece and his mind grows blank. How long as Prompto been dancing—15, 20 minutes? Not long enough. Noctis could watch this for days. He should be recording it so he can go home and jerk off later. He’s still feeling awkward, but watching Prompto’s lean, muscular form dance on a pole—<em>a pole</em>—quickly makes everything else fade away. He’s never wanted to touch something so much. The outfit, the atmosphere, the drinks, the years-long tension...he feels it cresting into a giant wave, and Noctis stands on the proverbial beach, helpless against the water.  </p><p> </p><p>As Prompto climbs down from the pole and finishes with a split on the table, he exhales slowly and opens his eyes and chances a look at Noctis. The prince’s dark blue eyes are blown wide with lust, dark jeans doing little to hide his obvious arousal. He watches in fascination as Noctis licks his lips at him. His garbage anxiety brain comes up with a million excuses on cue—<em>he's drunk, he’s just pent up, it’s not you, he’d be reacting to anyone like this... </em>He blushes and looks away. “Noct,” he breathes. “You’re...you’re staring.” </p><p>“Prom,” Noctis says, and oh—oh, he’s <em>so </em>broken. The desire thrumming through his veins is the most powerful force on the planet right now. His soul has left his body. He can’t think, he’s desperate. “Prompto--come here?” His voice cracks and he grabs his cocktail and grimaces as the scotch burns down his throat. Noct rests his hand on his thigh, dangerously close to the throbbing length trapped in his jeans.  </p><p>Prompto swallows and crawls off the table and into Noct’s lap, thighs spread wide, straddling him, hands locked behind his neck. “Hey,” he whispers.  </p><p>But Noctis is looking at him with such affection, Prompto can’t help but pretend it means something more. Maybe this will be their thing—when Noctis comes in here and is a client, Prompto can be his Behemoth—nothing more, just a contract like all the others. After all, he’s technically <em>paid  </em> for Prompto’s company tonight, hasn’t he? The blond’s heart aches as he gazes into Noct’s eyes. If that’s all Noctis wants, Prompto can give him that. It doesn’t have to be anything more. Prompto’s not willing to breach the line of trust he’s tried so hard to build with his prince. He settles down further on Noct’s lap and repeats the mantra he’s been telling himself for more than half a decade—<em>Don't fuck this up.  </em> </p><p> </p><p>The prince’s hands immediately fly to Prompto’s hips, gripping them hard, squeezing around the black leotard. He eyes Prompto hungrily and forces himself to say actual words. “That was—you're so--” Well. He tried. He looks away, biting his lip.  </p><p>“Was that good for you?” Prompto asks quietly. He desperately wants to grind against Noct—the crown jewels are <em>right there </em>and gods, gods, Prompto’s so desperate. He feels pathetic. </p><p>Noct’s head snaps back and he stares at him. “Good,” he grunts. “Great, amazing...” </p><p>Prompto smiles. He’s happy he’s pleased his liege. “Yeah? Cool. I practice a lot, but I’m still learning. You should see some of the girls here, they’re insane.”  </p><p>Noctis shakes his head. “Not interested in them.” </p><p>Prompto tries not to take that the wrong way and laughs. “Okay, just interested in me, then?” </p><p>“Yeah.” Noctis worries at his lower lip and grips Prompto’s hips harder.  </p><p>Prompto hopes he leaves bruises. “Hm.” </p><p>Noctis stares him in the eyes and tries to talk normally—again. “Prompto, I—like—like you.” He holds his breath.  </p><p>Prompto feels like he’s been punched in the gut, all of the air rushing out of the private booth all at once. “You--what?” he squeaks. <em>Great, Prom, real smooth </em>. </p><p>Noctis groans and leans his head on the back of the cushioned booth and squints his eyes. “I like you,” he grits out again. “Fuck, Prom, I--” </p><p>“Woah, woah, hey,” says Prompto, taking a chance and threading his fingers through Noct’s soft black hair.  </p><p>Noctis fuckin’ <em>whines </em>underneath him and Prompto’s heart speeds up. “You’re not just saying this ‘cause I’m in fishnet tights and heels, right?” Fingers still intertwined in those chaotic black strands, he moves Noct’s head forward and gazes into those deep blue eyes again.  </p><p>“No,” says Noctis, voice tight and trembling. “I--since high school, Prompto. Fuck.” </p><p>Prompto doesn’t know what to do. His heart is beating so hard that it hurts. He stares at Noctis until he can’t bear it anymore, and then leans forward.  </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos if you get my Legally Blonde reference</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Noctis closes his eyes and parts his lips as Prompto presses his mouth to his, he struggles not to pass out. He’s breathing so heavy, panting, heart racing a mile a minute. Prompto makes it quick, pulling away and giving him a low, sultry look.  </p><p>“Okay?” he asks, chewing his bottom lip raw.  </p><p>Okay? What kind of dumbass question... Noctis shakes his head. “More,” he rasps out, and then the proverbial tidal wave crashes onto the beach, pulling him out to sea.  </p><p>Prompto moans and kisses Noctis like he needs it to survive. His hands are everywhere—hair, neck, underneath his shirt and grazing his ribs. Noctis bucks up into him, groaning at the friction. Oh, yes, good—this is good. Prompto rolls his hips and pushes his own rock-hard cock against Noct’s, moving in tandem with his prince. He bites Noct’s lips, determined to make them red and kiss-swollen and <em>his</em>, explores his sweet mouth and sucks hard on his tongue, swallowing Noct’s moans.  </p><p>Noctis is overwhelmed. It’s everything he dreamed of and more. He slides his hands from Prompto’s hips down to the tops of his thighs, feeling his soft skin underneath the fishnet stockings. Noctis wants to rip them off. His hands fly up to Prompto’s shoulders, his back—Noctis teases light circles into his skin as Prompto grinds against him and kisses him within an inch of his life. He drags sword-calloused hands over the top of his broad, freckled shoulders, along his collar bone, feeling the edge of the one-piece. He peels it down to Prompto’s lean stomach and cups his pecs, flicking his pert, red nipples with each hand, pulling and rubbing them until they’re raw.  </p><p>Prompto’s seeing stars. He's so turned on he thinks he might die. His chest has long been a special kind of erogenous zone, and to have Noctis assaulting his senses like this is nearly unbearable. He whines, moaning “<em>Noct</em><em>! </em>” high-pitched and needy as Noctis has his way with his chest.  </p><p>“Fuck--!” Noctis drops one hand around to Prompto’s ass and squeezes hard. He wants to claim it so badly, let this whole blasted club know who this particular Behemoth belongs to. He pulls away, burying his face in Prompto’s neck. “Fuck, Prom, I--” If they keep up the frottage, he’ll come in his clothes. “Prom, I want--” </p><p>“Whatever you want, Noct,” says Prompto.  </p><p>“Wanna fuck you so bad,” Noctis mumbles into his skin.  </p><p>Prompto shivers, laughing nervously. “Yeah?” </p><p>Noctis squeezes his ass <em>hard</em>. “Yes,” he growls.  </p><p>“Wanna ride you,” whispers Prompto. “I’ve dreamed about your cock inside of me for years.” </p><p>Noctis groans and bites Prompto’s shoulder, hard, not even caring if he leaves a mark. Let them see—let the whole city see that Prompto is his.  </p><p>“Okay--okay--” Prompto pulls away, yanks Noctis by the hair and kisses him all messy one last time before stumbling to his feet.  </p><p> </p><p>Noctis watches as Prompto gets on his knees and opens a drawer in the bottom of the booth—he pulls out lube and a roll of condoms, slamming them on the table as he kicks the secret drawer shut. Prompto stands in front of him, and Noctis is so high off the way he looks right now. Cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, leotard halfway off, lips slick with his spit—he's a vision, and Noctis feels that ache deep in his chest.  </p><p>“You want this, Noct?” Prompto’s looking at him, mesmerized, hopeful.  </p><p>“Fuck yeah,” says Noctis. “I told you, I--” he squints and rubs at his eyes. “I’m in love with you, Prompto.” </p><p>Prompto sucks in a breath. “Holy shit,” he says. “Holy shit. You’re serious.” </p><p>“Yes,” says Noctis, still pinching his face. “I thought—I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship—thought you didn’t feel the same.” </p><p>“Dude,” says Prompto as he climbs out of his stilettos and peels the leotard off the rest of the way. “Are you kidding? Holy shit. I’ve been crushing on you since elementary school.” </p><p>Noctis drops his hand and peers at Prompto—naked except for the fishnet tights, cock straining against the webbed fabric. “What,” says Noctis.  </p><p>“Yeah,” Prompto laughs breathlessly. “I, uh. Yeah. Since we were kids. I wanted to be friends with you so badly, but I...didn’t think that you liked me. Since I was heavy. So that’s why I took up running...so that I’d be worthy of you.” He bites his lip again and looks away.  </p><p>“Shit,” says Noctis. “I’m such an idiot.” </p><p>“Nah,” laughs Prompto. “We’re both pretty stupid sometimes. Don’t beat yourself up. It was a long time ago.” </p><p>Noctis smiles softly. “Okay.” </p><p>Prompto blushes under his gaze and peels the stockings off, and then he’s bared for his prince, cock jutting out proudly between his legs, hard and leaking.  </p><p>“Shit,” says Noctis again, scrambling to unfasten his jeans and peel them, and his underwear, down to his ankles. He moans as his cock hits the air and he takes himself into his hand, stroking slowly.  </p><p>“Damn, is that all for me?” Prompto teases.  </p><p>“Shuddup and get over here.” </p><p>“Of course, Highness.” </p><p>And if Noctis didn’t have an authority kink before, he thinks he does now.  </p><p>Prompto scampers over and straddles him again. “Uh, there’s just one other thing, Noct...do you wanna do the honors?” </p><p>Noctis tilts his head. “Huh?” </p><p>Prompto blushes and grabs Noct’s wrist, bringing it around to his ass. Prompto spreads his cheeks and makes sure that Noct’s fingers also touch the small, silicone plug nestled between them.  </p><p>Noctis feels like he might actually die. “Have you had this in the whole time?”  </p><p>Prompto nods. “I’m, uh. Popular? So I just started putting it at the beginning of my shift, so that I’m ready when the time comes.” </p><p>“You pole danced with a butt plug in?” </p><p>Prompto cocks an eyebrow. “What, like it’s hard?” </p><p>Noctis snorts. “Okay Elle Woods.” Prompto releases his hand and lets Noctis slowly wiggle out the plug. The prince exhales long and slow and tosses it to the side. It’s pink.  </p><p>“Hey don’t lose that, it’s mine.” Prompto leans back and grabs the lube from the table, and one of the condoms. “I promise I get checked regularly, and I’ve never done it raw, so. You can trust me.” </p><p>Noctis takes the condom and stares at it, then tosses it to the floor. “Fuck that,” he says. “I want to feel you. I don’t want anyone else fucking you after tonight, do you understand?” </p><p>Prompto’s eyes go big and he nods.  </p><p>“I’ll pay for whatever you need,” Noctis continues as he squirts lube in his hand, coating his cock. “I want you to be my boyfriend. I don’t want you working here anymore if it means you have to have sex.” </p><p>Prompto swallows. “I mean I don’t have to—it's just—I might not get as many clients--” </p><p>Noctis finishes slicking himself up and throws the lube bottle to the floor. “Whatever money you lose, I’ll double it. I’m serious, Prom.” </p><p>Prompto nods, near tears. “Yeah, yeah, I—I want to be your boyfriend, too, Noct. Have for forever.” </p><p>“Good.” Noctis strokes himself, liberally coating his cock until it’s glistening under the bright lights, gazing at Prompto’s face. “Can I fuck you now?”  </p><p>“Fuck yeah,” mutters Prompto as he arches forward, grabbing Noctis at the base and holding him steady as he sinks down.  </p><p> </p><p>The burn and stretch is so much more satisfying than the short little plug can give him, but Prompto’s a bit of a size queen, so he knows he can take it. He doesn’t take his time, eager and more than ready to have his desires finally realized.  </p><p>Noctis cries out loud as he watches Prompto take him to the hilt in one fell swoop. He’s so tight and hot around him, gripping his cock like a vice—Noctis pushes aside his feelings of jealousy at knowing that he’s not the only one Prompto has probably fucked like this and concentrates on the way his best friend’s long eyelashes flutter closed as he makes himself comfortable on his cock. Slick velvet walls around him, Prompto’s furled hole fluttering with being forced wide open so quickly...it’s almost more than Noctis can take.  </p><p>“Prom,” he grits out.  </p><p>“I got you buddy, don’t worry,” Prompto mumbles, and he begins to move.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noct clutches Prompto to his chest, burying his head into the side of his neck as Prompto gyrates his hips in a devastatingly fast rhythm--back and forth, up and down. Prompto fucks himself stupid on Noct’s cock, hoping that this is as good for Noctis as it is for him.  </p><p>All Noctis can do is hold on for dear life, biting harder and harder into Prompto’s neck as his best friend rocks his world. It’s better than he could’ve ever imagined. He digs his nails into Prompto’s back and Prompto cries so loud Noctis thinks the whole club might hear them—then he decides he doesn’t care. Part of him wishes they were home alone, where he could fuck Prompto nice and slow for hours. They’ve been going at it for maybe ten minutes and Noctis has been on a hair trigger all night—he knows he won’t last, and he finds that he doesn’t want to.  </p><p>Prompto holds on to Noctis tight, so tight, like he can never be close enough. Noctis is filling him up in a way that none of his clients ever have before—he knows it’s because finally, after all these years, he knows his feelings are reciprocated. This is more than sex—it's love. He sobs into Noct’s neck, shuddering at the drag on his own untouched cock against Noct’s stomach, arousal building deep in his belly as he rocks against his prince.  </p><p>“Prom,” Noctis grits out. This is it—Prompto's too good, too perfect. He’s barreling toward his release like runaway train and every nerve is on fire, body thrumming with the anticipation. He tries to hold back and he fails spectacularly.  </p><p>“Noct,” Prompto shudders—and then he feels his orgasm dribbling out, fucked clean out of him, untouched, cock trapped between their bodies, coating their stomachs in sticky white.  </p><p>“Oh--<em>shit-- </em>” Noctis wedges his hand between them and grips Prompto’s dick hard, pumping out the rest of his release as he moans brokenly, shuddering his own spend up into Prompto’s pliant body. He comes so much, so hard—he's seeing stars, his whole universe narrowing down to this singular point: Prompto on top of him, crying and shaking in his sticky aftermath, himself throbbing inside of his best friend, painting his inner walls, claiming him.  </p><p> </p><p>Prompto goes slack against him after a while, even as Noctis goes soft and slips out of him, their sex trailing down each other's thighs and the plush velvet of the booth’s cushion. Noctis finds himself nodding off, warm, boneless, and sated with Prompto’s body on top of him. He feels his best friend stir, finally, and Noct finds himself missing the heat.  </p><p>“Wow,” breaths Prompto. “That was...damn.” </p><p>“Mmmmmm,” is all Noctis can say, slowly cracking an eyelid.  </p><p>Prompto blushes and looks down. “So, uh. Boyfriends?” </p><p>“Yeah,” says Noct, reaching to cup Prompto’s pretty, angular face. He yawns in spite of himself, throwing his head back against the seat. “You fucked the life out of me. I’m dying.” </p><p>Prompto giggles and slides off of his lap, putting the lube and the condoms back in the secret drawer under the large, curved booth. He grabs the candles from the tray and puts them back in the middle of the table and picks his drink from the floor. “So uh,” he says as he begins to dress, starting with his small silicone plug. He shivers with the thought of keeping Noct’s cum inside of him. It makes him feel owned.  </p><p>“Mmmph,” says Noctis, gazing at Prompto as he slides the fishnets back up and over supple thighs and bony hips, followed by the stretchy black strapless leotard, and finally, the heels.  </p><p>Prompto sits gently on the cushion beside of him, rubbing soft fingers over his bare legs. Noctis hasn’t even bothered to pull up his jeans and his underwear. “I’m here until 5 am, dude. You should go home and get some sleep. I can come over once I’m off?” </p><p>Noctis nods. Sleep sounds really good right now. He reaches on top of his discarded hoodie for his phone and flicks it off airplane mode, blurry eyes looking at the screen as he sees several missed calls from Ignis and Gladio. “Ah fuck.” He bites his lip and slides the “Missed Call—Gladiolus Amicitia” notification and his shield picks up on the first ring.  </p><p>“What the fuck,” Gladio almost screams. “Noct! Where <em>are </em>you? Ignis is having a heart attack! And what’s all these boxes outside your apartment door?”  </p><p>Noctis can hear Ignis going nuts in the background. There’s some shuffling, then--  </p><p>“Noctis Lucis Caelum,” Ignis spits, and, damn—all three names. Noctis feels cowed, just a little. “Where in the bloody hell <em>are </em>you?” </p><p>“Uh,” says Noct, scrubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at Prompto, who looks terrified. He can hear them through the phone. “At a club.” </p><p>“Are you serious...” Ignis sighs. “It’s bloody <em>midnight</em>, Noct. We’ve been trying to reach you for hours.” </p><p>Damn, he was here that long? No wonder he’s beat. He sits up and jerks his head at Prompto.  </p><p>His best friend understands immediately. Noctis stands and Prompto pulls up his boxers, then his jeans, buttoning them, patting his butt for good measure.  </p><p>Noctis grins. “Yeah, sorry, uh. My phone was on silent.” </p><p>“Noct,” Ignis chides. “You are the crown prince. If the reporters catch you doing anything rash--” </p><p>“I’m not near any reporters,” Noctis sighs. “I’m in... a private club. No one knows I’m here, honest. No one saw me come in. I’ve been behind a curtain all night.” </p><p>Ignis pauses. “<em>Where </em>are you?” </p><p>“I, uh. Chez Behemoth? I just had some drinks and some food, no big deal. I’m coming home.” </p><p>“Your reckless behavior is going to be the death of me,” Ignis sighs. “I know where that is.” </p><p>“Oh, do you,” Noctis starts, but his adviser cuts him off.  </p><p>“Be quiet,” he growls. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. You best be standing outside. Do not make me come in.” </p><p>“All right, all right, sheesh. You’re such a mom,” Noctis mutters as he hangs up and looks at Prompto, who stands.  </p><p>“If anyone asks, I’m going to claim plausible deniability,” laughs Prompto, holding up his hands in self-defense.  </p><p>“Don’t worry,” says Noctis. “I’m not gonna throw my boyfriend under the bus.”  </p><p>Prompto just beams at him.  </p><p> </p><p>_______ </p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Noctis doesn’t wake up until noon. He cracks an eyelid, and sure enough, Prompto came home to him after his shift at the club. He must’ve showered, because there’s no trace of the makeup, and his soft blond hair is flat on his head. Noctis smiles and reaches out, threading his fingers through his boyfriend’s. He kisses Prompto’s knuckles and drifts back off into happy dreams.  </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was so fun to write! Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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